


Party Games

by Romanumeternal



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 17:02:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16288439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romanumeternal/pseuds/Romanumeternal
Summary: Claudilo has organised a fund raiser for the Romulist party, and there's a thousand and one things for him to worry about.In all honesty, I wrote this as Claudilo gets not nearly enough love





	Party Games

Like a king surveying his lands, Claudilo looked over the hall.

There were perhaps fifty citizens there, all men, of course, and as many slaves, and Claudilo permitted himself a thin smile, pouring himself a glass of water. It was, he considered, a good turnout. Five senior members of the Secreteriat, two high ranking officers in the militum, standing out in their dark red uniforms, a Praetor, the Urban Prefect of Adrianapole, and a scattering of local worthies - businessmen, landowners, and members of several regional and urban curias. Through the crowd moved Senator Callarius, immaculate in a white and purple sash and a dark green, stiff collared shirt, subtly embroided with golden trimmings - clasping hands, nodding, muttering pleasantries, and thanking people for visiting.  All part and parcel, Claudilo knew, of keeping Senator Tiberius Antonius Julius Callarius in the good books of senior Romulist party members - and thus, keeping him a Senator.

He walked around the outside of the gathering, his eyes missing nothing, He snapped his fingers at one of the serviles he'd hired for the occasion, who was in danger of letting his tray of fried shrimp go depleted. He gently gestured Sia towards an elderly man, who seemed to be looking for some wine. With a tolerant smile, he explained to a young man - barely into his teens, Claudilo reckoned - that no, he could not smoke charas inside, but perhaps if he'd go with Marcella (yes, sir, that slave over there, the one with the black hair) then she'd be pleased to show him to the peristylium. With a nod of approval, he noted Marcella smile at the boy. The lad smiled back and, Claudilo noticed wryly, straightened his tunic slightly. 

He wondered, for a moment, if he should have ordered Drufio or Gamsol to escort the boy out, but then shook his head. The boy looked harmless enough, and the absolute worst he might do was get a little too familiar with Marcella who, Claudilo considered, knew how to handle such men. Besides, however snobbish, bigoted, reactionary and often surprisingly ignorant Claudilo privately considered a goodly portion of the Romulist party might be, they were on the whole men of dignitas, and men of dignitas did not - usually - attempt to couple with their host's slaves without his permission first. 

He looked around, saw Lukaminka and, sighing, mentally corrected himself. The above was, he admitted to himself, perhaps not the case if the girl was wearing a too tight, too short tunic, smiling as she popped a morsel into a man's mouth, and all but rubbing herself against him.He frowned. Such behaviour, he considered, was beneath the dignity of a member of the Callarius household. He caught her eyes, glared, and with a mournful look and muttered apologies, she prised herself away from him and made her away towards Claudilo.

"Getting a bit familiar, aren't you?" snapped Claudilo. Luka hung her head.

"Sorry sir...but you did say it was important we were welcoming to the dominus' guests"

"Yes. Welcoming. As in polite. Not as in all but coupling with them."

"But surely, sir, if I show him a good time-"

Claudilo, having already heard a similar argument from Lukaminka several times before, cut her off.

"Lukaminka. Just...no." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "And if I find you naked with any man here tonight I will have you flogged, understand?"

Lukaminka looked at him, mutinously, before nodding her head slowly.

"Your will, sir" she said. Claudilo, a slave himself, knew exactly what that really meant, but he wasn't in the mood to deal with that impudence just now. He waved her away, shaking his head. The girl seemed intent on proving right every negative stereotype about slavegirls and their morals. He paused. No, that was unfair to her. She was loyal, kind, hardworking, conscientious and respectful of her betters. 

He continued prowling the room. The gathering was in full swing now, and he allowed himself a flicker of satisfaction. It was no mean feat, really, organising such an affair, especially on the short notice his dominus had given him. But it had been a task he'd set to with a will, and this evening was the result. A gathering of the great and the good of the Romulist Party. 

"Ah, there he is, gentlemen!" 

He turned around, and bowed his head as the Senator smiled, looking at three of his companion. Claudilo recognised them all, of course. Three of Callarius' closest cronies - and, if Claudilo was honest, as near to friends as he could be with any free citizen. Prefect Tothius smiled.

"Ah, of course. A well organised evening, excellent good, good company, attractive servers...I knew you'd never organise anything this good, Senator."

The Senator chuckled as much as any of them, and Claudilo smiled humbly. Marcellus punched the secretary in the arm, affectionately.

"Do tell me, Claudilo, you have made sure your dominus has practised his speech?"

"Speaking of -"

"Calm, citizens" said Callarius, and then looked at Claudilo. "Claudilo, Citizen Marcellus has some dates. Be so good as to take him to the office and check them against my calendar, would you?"

"Of course, dominus, but-"

"There he is!"

The voice was slurred, loud, and demanded attention. Callarius muttered a low curse under his breath.

"Citizen Berbius. How good of you-"

"Cram the crap, Callarius!"

Callarius glanced irritably at Claudilo. Why in Hades did you invite this idiot?  
Claudilo shook his head, very slighty. I didn't. I know full well your feelings on Honorious Claudius Berbius.  
Well, how come the prig's bloody here?  
Claudilo briefly glanced towards one of the Militum officers. I believe that he's Tribune Posca's brother in law.  
Next time, don't invite Tribune fucking Posca!

 

"Here is he, citizens! At last, Senator Callarius graces us with his presence!" He wrenched another goblet of wine from Sia. "The fucking sellout. The man who's too busy fucking whores in Rome to attend to our needs, citizens!"

There were outraged mutterings. Claudilo mentally winced. Once upon a time, no doubt, Berbius had been a man worth knowing, a high flyer within the Party, but those days were long gone. Bad investments, multiple divorces and a fundamentally charmless character had conspired to make him the worst kind of joke; the one that kept on going. The election of Callarius had all but sidelined him.

"I see you have been enjoying my wine, citizen" remarked Callarius, coolly. 

"Fuck you" slurred Berbius, which in Claudilo's mind at least lacked a certain something as a comeback. "You're a fucking traitor, Callarius! What would Hallarticus have made of you, eh? Swanning around in the Senate, eh? Just another fat, lazy politician who lines his own fucking nest and sells out his own fucking voters. I hear you're friends with some fucking Plebian Fronters, eh? Sellout!"

Lincinius, the Senator's bodyguard and driver, came up behind him, saying nothing, waiting for instructions.

"I think, sir" snapped Callarius "that if you dislike my company so, you should leave."

Berbius span around. "Hah! You'd like that. Get your fucking one legged thug to drag me outside? No, I'll stand here and speak my piece."

Claudilo desperately looked around. Dragging the man outside was a very last resort. But neither was letting him rant and rave. It would, Claudilo felt, ruin the whole party atmosphere. 

He looked around, and saw Olia, carrying a large amphora of wine. He looked at her, and glanced at Berbius. Olia followed his gaze, and frowned.

Thinking quickly, he gestured towards the amphora. Drop it. Olia's eyes widened, and she shook her head. Claudilo narrowed his eyes - Olia was, he thought, far more strongly willed than a slave should be - and chopped his palm into the air. Olia frowned. She knew what that piece of silent slave code meant. Do what I say, without question. Its urgent. For further reassurance, he tapped two fingers against his heart. It'll be ok, I promise.

Exactly how Olia managed to trip and fall so spectacularly was a matter of laughing speculation amongst the household  slaves for quite some time afterwards, but trip and fall spectacularly she did. Not only did the wine smash onto the floor, but she also managed, seemingly by a cruel twist of fate, to land on one of the tables - which promptly collapsed, with a tremendous crash of breaking plates and glasses. Two guests ran to help her up (or, thought Claudilo, slightly cynically, perhaps to look down her tunic, which being soaked in wine was now clinging to her body quite revealingly).

There were scattered exclamations, and then Olia stood up, looking terrified. Claudilo leaned over and whispered to Marcellus.

"A thousand pardons, sir, but might I ask a favour? Argue with my dominus"

"Wha-?" but by then, Claudilo had moved to Callarius' side.

"Dominus, chew her out for this."

The Senator didn't waste time, either trusting Claudilo implicitly or immediately seeing the reason for the request.

"What is the meaning of this, slave?" he snapped. He turned to Claudilo, saying loudly. "Take this idiot away, and make sure she's properly punished!"

"Come now, sir" interrupted Marcellus. "The girl I am sure did not mean to-"

"Dominus, please!" begged Olia. 

"Clumsiness should be punished, absolutely" broke in another man.

"Well, to be sure, but in this case-"

In the hubbub that followed, no one took much notice of Lincinius gently - but very firmly - grabbing Berbius by the shoulders, and half pushing, half walking him, out of the hall.

***********************************************************************************************************

It was a few hours later, and Claudilo and the Senator were relaxing.

"Pretty good party, I thought" opined the Senator. He grinned at Claudilo. "Although I damn well know for sure Olia did not trip and fall by accident. Swift thinking, by the way."

Claudilo smiled, and then said

"I would hope, dominus, you have no intention of punishing her?"

Callarius snorted. Claudilo sighed, slightly, in relief. He didn't seriously think his dominus would have done - he was, for a start, surprisingly fond of the barbarian girl, and Claudilo had let it be known the only reason she had made such a commotion was that he had ordered her too - but it was good to be sure. 

"Of course not. In fact."...he dug around in his desk, and produced some coins. "I'd like her to have a few denari as a reward."

"That's very generous, dominus."

For a few moments, none of them said anything. Then:

"Of course" said Callarius "if I am rewarding Olia for tripping and falling with a few coins, then how can I reward you?"

"Dominus, I don't-"

"Don't talk when I am, Claudilo. You've been invaluable to me for almost fifteen years. Without you, I would never have become a Senator"

Claudilo shook his head. "Dominus, I am sure that's not-"

"What did I tell you about interrupting?" The Senator smiled, grimly. "I own you, therefore what I say goes. And what I say is that, almost every day for fifteen years, you have supported me. You've assisted me, encouraged me, organised a thousand and one things I never even had to think about. And, tonight got me thinking. You're thirty five now, are you not?"

"Yes, dominus."

"Good. In that case, Claudilo, this evening, I'd like to discuss what you hope to do after I free you, next month."

**Author's Note:**

> The Romulists are one of the 'Big Four' political groupings in the People's Republic (behind Trinity, Golden Sun and the Plebian Front) and have a reputation for (depending on your point of view) a sensible, highly patriotic approach inspired by the best traditions and wisdom of the past, or a bunch of rural warmongering reactionaries who want to raise taxes.


End file.
